Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

Chapter 774 - 729: Morris_2

The ordinary spectators in the stands only felt the air suddenly become cold, a chill on their backs, that’s all.

But Duke felt it.

He sat in a corner seat, body abruptly tense.

That aura made his scalp tingle.

Not powerful, not imposing, but something deeper.

Like something was peering through endless void, using Morris’s body, casting a glance at this world.

It was the breath of death.

The gaunt youth still stood there expressionlessly, those hollow eyes still staring at Audric.

But now, he was entirely not the same person as he who sat silently in the shadows before.

It was a door that was opening.

Behind the door was death itself.

Audric’s smile froze.

His body stiffened slightly, his pale golden vertical pupils revealing genuine seriousness and strong apprehension for the first time.

The dark red robe on his body fluttered without wind, a faint golden halo emanating from within him, a primal defense instinct of the Golden Dragon bloodline, autonomously triggered when facing an existence threatening one’s life.

The two stood ten steps apart, quietly confronting each other.

The atmosphere in the center of the field was so heavy it was suffocating.

All the people in the stands held their breath.

Then—

"Enough."

A deep voice came from the sky above the arena.

The voice wasn’t loud, yet it was like an invisible large hand, instantly suppressing that suffocating aura in the field.

Cohen Grey.

The demigod-level power in charge of managing all young mages, who unknowingly appeared above the arena.

He hovered in mid-air, his dark gray robe flapping in the wind, his pale gray eyes coldly looking down below.

"This is not where you mess around."

His voice wasn’t high, yet it carried unquestionable authority.

"Go back."

Morris raised his head, glanced at him.

A faint, almost invisible flash of light passed through those hollow eyes.

Then, the aura of death on him slowly converged, dissipating completely.

Morris slightly lowered his eyelids, saying nothing, turned to leave the field.

The slender figure disappeared at the end of the tunnel, as if never appeared.

Audric stood in place, stared at the direction Morris disappeared into for a long time. Then he withdrew his gaze, looking up at Cohen.

"Lord Cohen." His tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction, "He challenged me, not me picking a fight."

Cohen Grey looked at him.

The glance was light, as if looking at a buzzing mosquito.

"I said, go back."

Audric’s mouth twitched, but he said no more.

He adjusted his robe, turned to leave towards the passage on the other side.

The crowd in the stands began to disperse.

Some were still quietly discussing, some excitedly exchanging everything they just saw, some full of regret, feeling they missed a more exciting confrontation.

Duke stood up, took one last look at the fading golden halo in the field.

Morris.

He silently recited the name in his heart.

The threat he felt from Morris just now was even stronger than facing Audric’s golden eyes.

That guy was hiding much deeper than he imagined.

...

After this day, what happened at Sky Arena quickly spread out, causing quite a stir among the wizard community coming to study, also becoming topic of conversation for some time after.

They witnessed for the first time the power of the Golden Dragon bloodline, even if only just a glimpse.

Leon, though defeated, his strength was still observed by everyone, not underestimated.

Duke continued with his quiet life of study and research, remaining unnoticed.

The last session of the elemental control course ended quite hastily.

Evelyn stayed unexpectedly for a quarter of an hour after finishing the last session, answering a few students’ questions.

But when someone asked about specific details of the assessment, she only shook her head slightly, saying "you’ll know then," and left the classroom.

Duke closed his notebook, sat in his seat without immediately getting up.

Over the past few weeks, he clearly felt the atmosphere on this island quietly changing.

Initially just some inconspicuous minor clashes, disputes while queueing in the dining hall, fights over seats in the library, conflicts over training field usage times.

Later gradually evolving into more apparent opposition, students from several wizard organizations of Golden Continent began grouping together, while those from East Coast Seville Empire formed their own circle, and local Central Islands students maintained a kind of aloof detachment.

West Coast here, indeed was somewhat weaker.

Leon was still recovering from injuries and reportedly would take at least a week to fully recover.

Vera, though still composed and calm, couldn’t uphold the entire West Coast single-handedly.

Every time conflict arose with those from Golden Continent, they’d be mockingly sneered at with an aloof tone, leave angrily holding a grudge.

The most miserable was in the dining hall that day, when a few West Coast students from small factions were cornered by the Scarlet Rose people, forcibly yielding the position they’d queued half an hour for.

When those students returned, their faces were livid, yet dared not utter a single word.

Duke saw this, said nothing.

It’s not that he didn’t want to intervene, rather he had no grounds to do so.

In the eyes of these factional young mages, he was just an unknown ordinary student from Black Sail.

No prestigious bloodline, no astonishing achievements, not even speaking much.

This was fine.

At least he could quietly observe, quietly study, quietly prepare for the assessment.

Walking out of the teaching building, the time was already late.

The glow of Sky City transitioned from afternoon’s pearl white to evening’s warm gold, casting over the corridor bridges, dyeing those crisscrossing surfaces into flowing bands of light.

Duke walked slowly along the stone path, his thoughts drifting to the airship he came on.

He thought of the banquet, thought of the words Raymond said when raising his wine glass.

"You are comrades of the same origin on West Coast."

At that time, he only considered those formal words, routine encouragement from a demigod mage to the youth.

Now he realized Raymond had long known such situation would arise.

West Coast, among the four divisions, was inherently weaker, with barely any notable bloodline families to their name.

When they came to Central Islands, facing those nobility with bloodlines cultivated over thousands of years from Golden Continent, facing elites backed by East Coast Seville Empire, they were naturally at a disadvantage.

Duke retrieved his thoughts, quickened his pace towards his residence. Tomorrow was the elemental control course assessment, he needed to make final adjustments to his state.

——

The next morning, Duke left an hour earlier than usual.

Crossing the light gate barrier, stepping onto the corridor bridge leading to Seventh District’s teaching area, he found today’s crowd much denser than usual.

Many young mages hurried along, faces carrying various degrees of tension and anticipation.

According to the schedule, these days were assessment time for many’s first course.

Some were walking while flipping through notes, muttering to themselves.

Some were gathered three or four together, quietly discussing possible assessment contents.

Some looked serious, silent, yet walking quickly as if rushing somewhere.

Duke walked unhurriedly.

As he walked, he observed the distribution of these people.

Several organizations from Golden Continent were still clustered together, leading the pack were Scarlet Rose people, at the front was a tall warlock he didn’t recognize, talking loudly as he walked, his tone full of unrestrained confidence.

Star Tower people followed behind, Cecilia among them, her ponytail more neat today, holding a thin booklet.

East Coast Seville Empire people were as silent as ever, rarely engaging in conflicts, others didn’t intentionally provoke them either.